There comes a time in everyone's life when they feel compelled to go big—an unspoken challenge to outdo their previous adventures, preferably in a way that involves fewer calories than cycling across a continent but more logistical chaos than a weekend in Devon. For us, this was that moment.
From exploring traditional Cypriot mountain villages and discovering seven-hundred-year-old UNESCO-listed monasteries to Bar Street Paphos; the cultural chasm was wider than the potholes on Mumbles Road. Or was it? We had a week to find out whether the infamous Inbetweener beach resort had anything more to offer than two-for-one cocktails and chlamydia.
A one-hour hop over the glistening Mediterranean from Cairo landed us in Larnaka. Following a rather intense week in the Nile Delta, we planned for a far more reposeful week in Cyprus, although driving a hire car into a demilitarised zone may not have been the most stress-free start.
Following a frenzied few days in the smoggy capital, we decided that some sea air would work wonders for our clogged sinuses, taking a two-and-a-half-hour Uber to the coastal city of Alexandria for the utterly ridiculous price of twenty pounds sterling.
With van living being the primary focus in recent times, it’s been three and a half years since I last boarded an aluminium deathtrap in earnest and in that time my discomfort of flying hasn’t eased. In fact, I have now been joined by a person who finds it even more discomforting than I, which presented an interesting challenge when sat next to each other for over five hours as we fist clenched and teeth gritted our way over Europe.
With Vishnu under several metres of snow somewhere on the outskirts of Prague, we decided to save our great escape for another day and make the most of our time in the glacial Czech capital. After bidding au revoir to the campsite's ostentation of bemused peacocks we caught a convenient tram to the city’s most iconic structure: Karlův most.
The final destination of our Central European voyage would be newly named Czechia. With the recent change frowned upon by almost everyone outside of government, in a similar manner to North Macedonia, we would continue to use its former ‘Republic’ branding when having drinks and conversing with civil servants, politicians, or the local fuzz.
Crystal-clear skies and festive fragrances greeted our first morning in the Slovak capital: Bratislava. Having parked up in neighbouring Austria and caught an unsurprisingly efficient train into the centre we decided to get our blood pumping early doors by marching up a rocky hill towards her primary attraction.
The undulating nation of Slovakia was to be our next stop as we terminated our eastward bearing and began our return journey in earnest. This was my first occasion within its landlocked borders having skirted close by while Interrailing many moons ago. Lowri, however, had visited before and even knew how to order a beer in Slovak, absolutely priceless knowledge.
With Vishnu temporarily repaired and teaching done for the weekend, we could loosen up, relax, and start to find out what it means to be Hungarian and what better way to do that than by taking a nice warm beer bath.
